Free WindSeeker by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Page A

my
    wrists."
    He seemed to become aware that he was crying, and he angrily reached up to wipe away the signs of his
    weakness. "I wanted to die rather than have them keep on hurting me. I couldn’t take anymore."
    She put out a trembling hand, wanting to hold him, needing to let him know how much she loved him, but
    he stood and walked away.
    Conar could hear her crying behind him, but he couldn’t go to her. His memories of the abuse rose up to
    render him immobile, immune to the wretched sounds of his wife’s tears. Some detached part of him
    listened, but it didn’t really seem to matter. He was lost in the past and his body was feeling every hand
    that had ever touched it.
    "Is that how you came by the scars on your back?" she asked. "Was it Kaileel Tohre who did those
    things to you? Is that why you bear the scars of his belt on your back?"
    His voice was flat, devoid of inflection. "Sweeting, he was only one among many."
    She was on her feet, grabbing at his arms. "What did they do to you?" she shouted, unaware that Storm
    and Marsh had both risen at the sound of her raised voice.
    A self-pitying laugh was forced from him. "It would be easier to say what they didn’t do."
    Although the two Elite could not hear what was being said, they knew something was wrong. Both men
    stooped, withdrew their crossbows from the ground, and stood facing the young Prince and his wife.
    "Beatings and mental abuse were all part of their strategy, Liza. They use it to control you. To break
    down your defenses, to make you vulnerable. Sex was secondary. It was almost like a reward, a reward
    for those who had broken a boy’s will. Being able to control a young mind, to strip it of its natural
    inclinations, to numb it to ordinary moral concepts, to cripple it, to twist it was what they most enjoyed.
    So the sex was like a dessert to them. They would find your one weakness and pray on that weakness,
    Liza. They would enhance it. They would hurt you with it."
    "I don’t…" She was trying to control the scream welling up inside her.
    He looked at her. "I am terrified of closed-in places, Liza. I have been ever since I was three and nearly
    died when one of my brothers locked me in Mama’s armoire. Kaileel knew about my fear and used that
    to control me. If the beatings didn’t work, or the starvation, or the mental abuse, being locked inside a
    stone crypt would."
    Remembered terror haunted his eyes. "I nearly died every time they forced me into that thing. It was the
    sort of torture that can do more harm than all the physical and mental abuse a child can undergo. You get
    a clear, close look at your own mortality and your inability to control your life. When they do something
    like that enough times, you will do anything to keep them from doing it again." He lowered his head, tears
    falling down his face, his shoulders shaking violently. "Even go willingly to some man’s bed to keep it
    from happening."
    "I’ll kill him!" she spat, her hands clenching into fists. "I’ll slit Kaileel Tohre’s throat!"
    Storm and Marsh looked at one another and decided to walk toward the couple.
    She started past Conar, but he took her struggling body into his arms, trying to stop her sobbing.
    "Liza, shush," he whispered. "It was a long time ago and is best forgotten."
    "No one harms the man I love! No one! I’ll kill that worthless bastard!"
    "His day will come, Liza," Conar said, pulling her head to his chest, a little amused at her language.
    "There are others who will be hurt if Tohre is reported now. Let me handle it. I made myself a promise a
    long time ago to see him cast out of this kingdom." He put his hand on her chin and raised her face to his,
    gazing down with pride into her avenging face. "Together, we will destroy the Domination, Liza. I can feel
    that."
    "We will destroy the entire Temple and all those deranged—" His fingers silenced her.
    "Not all of them are that way, Liza. There are some whose sexual preferences run to other